


Just Another Day

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Sherlock December Ficlets 2017 [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Sherlock December Ficlets 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Molly wakes the same as always...





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the [Sherlock December Ficlets ](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fcollections%2FSherlock_December_Ficlets_2017&t=NjRmODc4ZjE3OGJjNjUzYzg2NWVhY2QzMTRjNDJmOTUwMzdkOTRhMCxabzFVQjBkMA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfMPAp7-tN-90HMCNGHRDOw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fmissdaviswrites.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167644180668%2Fsherlock-december-ficlets&m=0) challenge. Each will be its own story, though knowing me a couple may follow an arc of sorts.  
> The prompt used for this entry: It’s Christmas / “I Feel The Same”

She’s trapped in Sherlock luminous gaze as he watches her entranced. His long dexterous fingers stroke her lips before plunging deep, tearing a moan of his name from her. Caught deep in the throes, she gasps barely able to breathe as she tilts her head back. She hums deep in her exposed throat, the sensitive skin reacting to the surprising softness of his beard as he licks her chin, miaowing quietly…

_Wait… What…?_

Molly’s eyes pop open to the feel of her cat, Toby, licking her chin wanting attention.

“Dammit!”

Her slick fingers, from the taking of her now interrupted pleasure into her own hands, keeps her from tossing the cat from her in frustration. Still, he is none too pleased as she bolts upright sending him tumbling from the bed. She grits her teeth annoyed, untangling her wrist from tie-loops of her holly leaf print pyjamas as she removes her hands and gets out of bed.

It is as any other morning as her mind falls to what is often her first thought of each day, her last thought of most nights: Sherlock Holmes. Idly, she realizes it is Christmas morning.

“Still, I feel the same.”

_Alone. In heartache. In unrequited love._

Something sparkly catches her eye. She sighs looking at the black dress with the shiny straps and trim she had worn to Sherlock’s get-together. The clothes she had worn to the lab later, folded on a chair by the closet.

Her mind flashes between his apology with his oh so gentle kiss on her cheek and

_“Who is she? How did Sherlock recognize her from ... not her face?”_

She chastises herself for the fruitless endeavor she knows pondering on either would be as she heads to the bathroom to start her Christmas Day.

This year, he kissed her cheek for Christmas. Maybe by this time next year, a real kiss and so much more, can be in more than just her dreams for the holidays.


End file.
